


Open Mouth (Slot A), Insert Foot (Tab B)

by NoirRosaleen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Misunderstandings, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirRosaleen/pseuds/NoirRosaleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty wasn't listening when Sebastian Moran told him about his exes...now he's put his foot in it by kidnapping John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Mouth (Slot A), Insert Foot (Tab B)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the SherlockBBC-fic Kinkmeme on Livejournal.

"Jim? Jim, I'm home!"

Sebastian Moran dropped his bags and closed the front door behind him, leaning against the solid wood for a moment. _Jesus, what a month._ Tracking down the particular drug lord his lover had been interested in had taken ages, not to mention the...negotiations...involved. _Just because I sleep with a madman doesn't mean I'm particularly good at talking to them. Fortunately I didn't have to do much talking._

"Seb, Seb, Seb, guess what I did while you were gone!" Jim Moriarty dashed down the stairs and into his lover's arms, grabbing a handful of ass and kissing Seb so enthusiastically their teeth clashed a little. Seb returned the kiss eagerly, wrapping his arms around the slightly shorter man and weaving his fingers into his hair. _At least going away means I get to come back to this!_ Jim was always incredibly tactile after they'd been apart for awhile, and Seb very much liked this side of him.

"Something absolutely terrible, I'm guessing," Seb said, smiling, as their mouths finally broke apart.

"I finally started talking to Sherlock!" Jim announced, grinning fit to burst.

Seb rolled his eyes. "I swear, you've been obsessing over that man for months, it's almost enough to make me jealous."

Jim snuggled up to Seb, rubbing his face against Seb's chest like an overgrown cat. "You know you always come first, lover, he's just fun to play with!"

"Like that makes it any better," Seb chuckled, petting the dark hair under his nose. "All right, let me go put my bags in the room and you can tell me all about it."

Once the bags were stowed upstairs, with all the weaponry neatly put away in the standing safes (Jim kept telling Seb it wasn't necessary, since nobody in or out of their right mind would break into their house, but Seb had a fetish for neatness when it came to his guns), Seb came back downstairs to two glasses of a rather good red wine on the coffee table and Jim perched on the couch, almost vibrating with excitement. Seb picked up his glass and sat down, pulling one foot up under him as he turned to face Jim. "So, tell me everything. Was it all you hoped for?" he teased, taking a sip.

"We-ell, not exactly, but it was very exciting!" Jim said, almost sing-songing the first part the way he always did when he was particularly gleeful...or hedging. Seb raised an eyebrow. "Well he got away, but really that just means I can play with him more later - do you know, I almost wasted our little game early!"

"You really need to work on your impulse control, love; there are only so many people capable of playing your games, you know," Seb said reprovingly. Jim pouted a little at him, then continued. "So about a week after you left..."

~~~~~

"...and then he leveled the gun at the coat, which honestly surprised me a little - I mean, if he's that smart, he should know you can't blow up C4 by simply shooting it!" Jim giggled, wriggling the toes he'd tucked under Seb's leg partway through the story. Both glasses of wine were gone, and Jim's exuberance had worn down a little as he'd told his elaborate story. Seb was a bit amazed at how many little plots he'd tipped his hand in simply to get Sherlock to come out and play with him, but Jim had been following Sherlock's website for months and clearly this fascination was more important than just the work at this point.

"So what did you do? I mean, clearly without me you were using the decoys..." Seb prompted, leaning his head on his hand.

"Ooh, the laser pointer gag, gets me every time!" Jim said, rolling his eyes. "I adore Hollywood, it makes my life SO much easier with the assumptions people make! Anyway, the party got spoilt by Big Brother; had to make a dash for it out the back. Got away clean, of course, but Sherlock was soOoOo upset that I threatened his Johnny-boy!"

"I can understand, I'd be rather pissed off if someone threatened my Johnny-boy," Seb agreed.

Jim blinked and frowned. "What Johnny-boy?"

"My ex, darling, the one that my sister's best friends with? The one she almost married? You never do listen to me, do you?" Seb chuckled at the pout Jim was wearing.

"I never listen when you talk about your exes; it would only make me jealous and you already told me I can't get rid of any of them on pain of revoked privileges," Jim sulked.

"Good thing you listened to that bit, if you killed John Watson I'd have to break up with you," Seb mock-threatened. "He and Mary might have called off the wedding, but he's still family, and you know how I feel about family."

Jim stilled for just a second. Another person might've missed it, but Seb had been with him for years, and he knew his lover inside and out. "What? What is it?" Seb asked, suddenly concerned.

"Um. John...Watson?" Jim looked the closest to uncertain Seb had ever seen him.

The implications hit Seb like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened and he stared at his lover in shock. "You...nearly blew up...MY JOHNNY-BOY?"

"But I didn't, darling, I mean I used him as a hostage but..." Jim trailed off like a guilty schoolboy.

Seb very carefully set down his empty glass on the table, feeling fury well up inside him. "You almost killed the guy who was almost my brother-in-law."

Jim held up a finger. "Well, _almost_ is the operative word here..."

Seb banged his fist down on the table beside his glass. "Dammit Jim! Johnny is the other best friend I keep talking to you about! I knew it, you weren't listening to me after all!"

Looking uncharacteristically panicked, Jim leaned forward and put his hand on Seb's knee, rubbing back and forth. "I do, I do listen to you, I know you like crap telly and lapsang souchong and your parents are dead and Mary is your baby sister who means the world to you and Seb, if he broke up with Mary, shouldn't you be angry with him?"

"It was a mutual break-up, they realized they were better as friends, I checked. Who do you think keeps an eye on Mary when I'm gone on missions for you? I love you, but you're too easily distracted by your work and now Sherlock," Seb spat the name at his lover. "John is important to Mary, Mary is important to me, so of course it makes John important to me too!"

Grabbing the hand on his knee, Seb flung it off and stood up, rage making him shake. "I do everything for you, no questions asked. I kill people from a mile away, I make sensitive contacts, I clean up after things go wrong, I live with you and sleep with you and I thought I knew you, and you can't even be arsed to make sure you're not blowing up the people I care about!"

Blinking, Jim sat back, his black eyes showing more emotion than Seb had seen in ages. "But...Seb, I -"

"I don't want to hear it!" Seb shouted, the first time he had ever raised his voice against Jim. "That is it. Because of your behavior, I'm withholding your special privileges over my body!"

Storming upstairs, Seb grabbed his still-packed bag of clothing and the bag under the bed and dragged them to the door. "Also I'm keeping the toys and don't even expect that you'll find me or them easily because trust me, you won't."

Jim was still seated on the couch, mouth open, looking oddly helpless and shocked. A small pang went through Seb's chest, but it barely slowed him down. Opening the door, he pitched his bags onto the front lawn and slammed the door behind him. "And before I forget, no phone sex either until I come back!" he shouted through the door. Picking up his bags, he tossed them into the car and drove off in a perfect fury.

Inside the house, Jim curled up in the couch, full of conflicting emotions. Hot and cold fury, of course, but also a desperate confusion and yammering despair. Seb had never been this angry at him before, not even when he'd had to clean up a 12-person delegation from a contact that had gone wrong due to Jim saying one careless thing in a fit of pique. One thought was clear. _I have absolutely no idea what to do._

~~~~~

John Watson opened one eye. The digital clock on his nightstand read 02:54. He let out a soft groan and stretched, the weight next to his foot making him smile. _Finally coming to bed, are we?_ he thought fondly. Sherlock had been up puttering with another experiment, and John had finally turned in, telling his lover that no matter how fascinating the chemical reaction he was currently investigating was it wasn't worth another sleepless night, unless it was the chemical reaction happening in the bedroom. Cocking an eyebrow over his shoulder, Sherlock had replied, "Oh, I can manage that - let me just finish this one thing..."

That had been a common refrain throughout their relationship, and John was long past being angry or hurt or worried that he was losing his touch; Sherlock was Sherlock, and he always did make up for his distractions once he finally finished whatever it was that was keeping his attention this time. John's smile stretched a little wider, and he rolled over to look at where Sherlock was sitting on the bed, wondering what interesting new trick he'd have come up with this time to apologize.

Only...the figure sitting on his bed was too short. John frowned, stretched over and turned on the light, and nearly had the fright of his life.

Jim Moriarty was sitting on his bed, actually wringing his hands and looking utterly distressed. "John, you have to help me. Seb's left me and I don't know where he is or how to get him back..."

~~~~~

"...so you're saying that you told Seb you nearly killed me, he had an unholy shitfit, and took off." John rubbed his forehead, leaning back against the headboard and trying to process what Jim had told him. Somehow, as completely bizarre as this whole situation was, Jim had gabbled out his story fast enough that John hadn't shouted for Sherlock, and the little details fit with the cryptic things Seb had mentioned about his boyfriend. Realizing that his ex-lover and best friend had somehow fallen in love with the madman who'd nearly killed both himself and Sherlock should probably have distressed him more, but John knew intimately that Seb had a thing for bad boys, and Jim certainly fit the bill. From what it looked like, Jim seemed to actually love Seb back, to boot, in his own twisted way.

"And he took the toybag. He said I've had my privileges revoked," Jim said mournfully.

"Right, that was an image I didn't need...so why are you here?" John asked, shaking his head in confusion.

"I figured you could help me. You're his best friend, you know him, surely you have some idea how I can make this better?" Jim asked, a pleading note in his voice.

John blinked once. "And you didn't think about, oh, how I just might be a little irritated after the whole kidnapping thing?"

Jim actually pouted. "I let you go. They weren't real snipers anyway, just laser pointers."

Squeezing his eyes shut, John heaved a sigh. "Laser pointers. Jesus Christ. Fine, you quit kidnapping us and I'll help you."

"Done!" Jim said, so quickly John kicked himself a little for not negotiating more aggressively. "I'll do whatever it takes to get Seb back. He's mine, John, I don't know what to do without him!"

"You really have got it bad, don't you," John chuckled. He sat up a little straighter, crossing his legs under the blankets. "All right, here's what you do..."

~~~~~

Sherlock Holmes was a little surprised to find John still awake when he finally came to bed at 04:30. The bedside light was on and John was staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, arms behind his head and rubbing one foot against the other. "Surely you haven't been waiting up for me?" Sherlock asked softly, padding into the room.

Lifting his head, John smiled and then scooted over to make room for his lover. "No, I just had a late-night visitor."

"A what?" Sherlock frowned. "I didn't hear the doorbell."

"I don't think he used it," John replied. "Sherlock, you aren't going to believe this, but Jim Moriarty just turned up sitting on my bed and asking advice on how to get back on Sebastian's good side."

Sherlock dropped his robe, midway through taking it off. "Moriarty was HERE? And you didn't call for me?"

"I was perfectly all right, Sherlock, and I got us both off the kidnapping list for this, so calm down," John said, grinning.

Pulling the covers back, Sherlock climbed into bed and propped himself up on one elbow. "All right, so, Moriarty asking you advice. Explain."

John told Sherlock the story of Jim's having put his foot in it, giggling at parts. Slowly Sherlock started grinning too. "So what did you tell him to do?"

"Oh no, I'm not telling. Seb would kill me if I revealed his weakness," John said, shaking his head.

Moving closer, Sherlock ran one lazy hand up and down John's side. "Come now, how could it hurt?" he purred, dropping his voice a little.

John shook his head again. "Uh-uh, Sherlock, I - AGH!" The hand on his ribs suddenly started dancing, tickling John mercilessly. "Bastard!" he gasped, trying to avoid the writhing fingers.

"Mummy and Daddy were married, now tell me!" Sherlock demanded, taking advantage of John's predicament by throwing a leg over and straddling his hips, using both hands to tickle his lover.

"All right! All right! I told Jim to buy Seb a kitten!" John howled, batting at the long fingers.

"A what?" Sherlock asked, dumbfounded.

"A tabby kitten," John said, calming down as Sherlock's hands stilled. "Seb's been pushing for a cat for ages, it seems, and I told Jim that Seb goes absolutely gaga for kittens, and specifically likes tabby cats. Jim protested a bit - seems he doesn't want to deal with a catbox - but I told him to just install a catflap and let the cat go outside."

"Huh," Sherlock commented. "Seems an odd method of making up."

"Yea, well, some people are cat people," John said, extracting his arms from under Sherlock's legs. "I'd rather have a bulldog, myself."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sherlock replied, eyes narrowing a little as he raked his eyes hungrily over John's bare chest.

Catching the look in Sherlock's eyes, John smiled and arched up a little, letting his hands run down Sherlock's chest to settle on his hips. "Maybe we should stop talking about Moriarty now, hmm?" he asked silkily, rubbing his thumbs on the inside of Sherlock's hipbones.

"Mmm..."Sherlock agreed, tilting his hips forward and closing his eyes, and for awhile afterward there was no talking whatsoever.


End file.
